


Pleasure

by celeste9



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Banter, Brother-Sister Relationships, M/M, Pre-Slash, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 03:32:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3159653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though Loras had not been looking for Jaime Lannister, he found him anyway, in the White Sword Tower with the White Book opened before him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> For hamsterwoman in Fandom Stocking. Spoilers through A Storm of Swords.

The day was warm and sunny, and Margaery had flowers plaited into her hair. She gave Loras a look of concern as she daintily ate from a plate of cheese and fruit. She said, “A man can serve honorably in the Kingsguard and yet have their… pleasures on the side. You would not be the first to do so.”

Loras frowned down at the date before him. He had never held much stake for what was considered honorable and what wasn’t, but he knew that the vows he had sworn when he was named to the Kingsguard had something very specific to say about the subject of lovers. “I would not call that serving honorably.”

“Fine, then, they serve… dutifully, and valiantly.”

“But why should I wish for that sort of pleasure?”

Margaery reached her hand across the table to lay upon Loras’. “Do you not wish to be happy?”

There was birdsong in the air and the air in the garden where they sat smelled sweet. Renly would have loved it. “I am happy enough,” Loras said.

“Oh, Loras, must you always be so dramatic?”

“Says the woman who would be queen. Again.”

“Hush,” Margaery said, but she was smiling.

Loras looked away from her and towards the path where they had walked, where beyond lay the bustle of King’s Landing. “I will not be distracted from my duty. There are many dangers at court.”

And most of them had golden hair.

-

Though Loras had not been looking for Jaime Lannister, he found him anyway, in the White Sword Tower with the White Book opened before him. Loras stepped near to him and said, “Staring at the book will not make more pages of your exploits appear.”

Jaime raised his eyes. He always managed to look bored whenever he was speaking to Loras. He managed to look bored when he was speaking to most people, actually. “Perhaps not, but it does generally free me from tiresome chatter.”

“I wonder how your pages will end? Will they say that you were the most ineffectual Lord Commander the Seven Kingdoms have ever seen? Surely you must be the first who cannot even hold a sword.”

“I can hold it.”

“But can you swing it?”

“Would you like to find out?”

Loras spread his arms wide. “By all means. Strike at me. Let us see how far you get.”

Jaime closed the book and stood up, walking closer to Loras. “And dirty my nice white cape? They wouldn’t even give me a name for killing you,” he said, but something in the way he said it made Loras certain that he was correct.

“You really can’t fight, can you?” Loras said. “We’ve all been thinking it. But it’s true. The great Jaime Lannister has been reduced to nothing but a man living off his reputation.”

“My reputation got me to Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. I should think I’m doing all right.”

“Your sister did that.”

“Makes no difference.”

“And what will you do when Stannis Baratheon comes here, looking to stake his claim?”

“Stannis Baratheon is a pauper who went running with his tail between his legs.”

“For now. We all know that won’t last forever. And if he doesn’t come, someone else will.” Loras held Jaime’s gaze evenly. “If you want to be worth that white cloak you’re wearing, don’t you think you should be relearning how to fight?”

“Let’s say I was,” Jaime said with the air of humoring a small child. “How would you know?”

“If you were truly serious about it, you would be training with the best King’s Landing has to offer. And that would be me.”

Jaime laughed. “Aren’t you the arrogant little rose.”

Loras shrugged. “I beat you.”

“Once.”

“Happy to do it again.”

Instead of arguing further, Jaime lifted his one good hand to tug at Loras’ curls. “Tell me, what was it Renly saw in you? No doubt it wasn’t your personality, which I am sorry to say leaves something to be desired. Your looks? If so I must confess that I am surprised. You’re pretty as a girl. I should think that wouldn’t be to his liking.”

Without thinking Loras raised his hand to strike at Jaime. Seemingly also without thinking, Jaime raised his hand to block it, but of course, Jaime’s dominant arm no longer had a hand at the end of it. Loras’ blow hit him across the face.

As if to cover the embarrassment of it, Jaime said, “Touchy. Was it something I said?”

“Do not--” Loras took a breath, calming his temper. “Do not mock him.”

“Don’t speak ill of the dead, is that what you mean? I’m afraid he doesn’t care any longer what we say.”

“I care,” Loras said through gritted teeth. What would Grandmother say if he managed to rise to the Kingsguard only to fight with the Lord Commander?

“Ah.” Jaime was smiling faintly, but not with amusement. “Because the love you shared was beautiful and noble, a love for the bards to sing of? Love is for fools, and if you have not learned that yet, you will.”

“Your failings are not mine. You may keep your advice to yourself. I did not ask for it.”

Jaime inclined his head, mock politely. “As you wish.”

When Jaime turned to return to his book, dismissing Loras outright without a word, Loras found himself blurting out, “Does it hurt?”

Jaime paused for a moment before facing Loras again, as if he actually were surprised. “There’s nothing there. It can’t hurt.”

Loras’ gaze dropped to Jaime’s stump before settling on his face. “That isn’t what I meant.”

“Does it matter? Would it make you respect me less or more if you knew the answer?”

“No,” Loras said, because that was the truth. “I only wanted to know.”

“Then my answer is, what do you think?”

Tentatively, Loras reached out with his fingers until he was brushing against the end of Jaime’s right arm. Jaime flinched but then remained still. Loras took one small step closer, so that he was near enough to practically feel the warmth of Jaime’s breath, and took Jaime’s stump in both his hands.

Jaime would no longer meet Loras’ eyes. He was gazing unfocused at the stump of his sword arm, at Loras’ hands on him.

Loras pushed aside the material of Jaime’s sleeve. Where his hand should be there was only a thin piece of cloth tied around Jaime’s wrist, hiding the ruin of what was beneath. Loras wanted to remove it but he knew he had not earned the right to. He was not afraid of Jaime but he was somehow afraid to find out what Jaime would do if pushed too far.

“It aches,” Jaime admitted, voice soft.

Loras raised his eyes to Jaime’s face.

“It aches, sometimes,” Jaime said.

If Jaime were Renly, Loras would have kissed what was left of his arm. He would have offered comfort in the form of touch, in the form of himself.

But Jaime was not Renly and never, ever would be.

“I could have a maester make a poultice,” Loras said. “They need not even know it’s for you, if you like. I could tell him I bruised myself in the training yard.”

“That would be likely enough,” Jaime said, and though he was not quite smiling, he still looked happier than he had since Loras first entered the room.

Jaime was not Renly, but perhaps Loras could learn to suffer him all the same.

**_End_ **


End file.
